“No, just—” I shake my head, trying to dislodge the nagging sensation. “Just making sure we have everything.”
Mouse chirps from my shoulder, but it sounds strained. Worried.
Patricia’s note-taking becomes increasingly frantic, her shadowy form darting between the horses like she’s conducting some kind of invisible census. Bob maintains his guard position, but there’s a tension in his stance that wasn’t there before.
They know something I don’t.
“Kaia.” Kieran’s voice carries a note of impatience. “Mount up.”
Right. The horse situation.
I approach the large bay gelding they’ve assigned me, trying to project confidence I absolutely don’t feel. Horses are big. Horses have opinions. Horses can sense fear, and right now I’m pretty sure I smell like a walking anxiety attack.
“Easy,” I murmur, reaching for the reins.
The horse snorts, eyeing me with what I swear is judgment.
“She’s fine,” Aspen says, moving to help. “Just needs—”
The wind shifts.
Not weather wind. Magicwind.
The air thickens, charged with power that makes my shadows ripple and my skin prickle with recognition. Above us, something moves across the sun—large, graceful, impossible.
Wings.
“Holy shit,” someone breathes.
A massive winged horse descends from the sky, coat black as midnight, eyes the same violet as mine. Power radiates from her in waves, ancient and wild and somehow familiar.
The moment I see her, memory crashes over me like a tide.
My parents, their hands guiding mine as I stroke a smaller version of this magnificent creature. “She will wait for you, little star. Until you’re ready.”
“Enif,” I whisper.
She lands with impossible grace, folding wings that shimmer with starlight. When she kneels before me, the gesture feels like a coronation.
“A Valkyrie steed,” Kieran breathes, his composure finally cracking. “They were supposed to be extinct.”
“Apparently not,” I say, reaching out to touch Enif’s muzzle. She’s warm and solid and real, and the moment our skin makes contact, something settles in my chest. Like a piece of myself I didn’t know was missing finally clicks into place.
Mouse purrs approval, rubbing against Enif’s neck like they’re old friends. My other shadows cluster close, their earlier agitation replaced by something that feels almost like relief.
I swing onto Enif’s back, marveling at how right it feels. Her wings spread slightly, catching the light, and I can’t help but grin.
“Show-off,” Aspen mutters, but he’s smiling.
“Says the man with the magical ice powers,” I shoot back.
Torric shakes his head. “At this point, I’m not even surprised anymore.”
“We should move,” Kieran says, though his eyes linger on Enif with something like wonder. “The longer we delay—”
“Wait.” The word slips out before I can stop it.
Everyone turns to look at me. I scan the group again, that nagging wrongness finally crystallizing into something I can name.
